A Christmas Tale
by bundysbaby
Summary: An AU Christmas story inspired by a picture challenge from one of my Trixie friends and inspired by the old musical Brigadoon. An old, abandoned building in the preserve; a wedding; and a blizzard... and of course, Jim and Trixie! Happy Holidays!
1. Chapter 1

"C'mon, Frayne. You need a little wine, women, and song in your life." Dan Mangan relaxed his wiry six-foot frame against the doorway leading from what was called the kitchen area to the dining/living/bedroom area of the tiny apartment. About the only thing that wasn't in the all-purpose area were the facilities.

"I'm not the fancy party type, Mangan. I'd rather die than dress up in a suit and tie to attend some spoiled heiress' engagement party." Jim Frayne rolled his emerald-green eyes at the other man.

"I told you, it's not like that. Honey Wheeler is the most down to earth person you'd ever meet. She cooks, sews, and plants tomatoes in the garden. Her fiancé, Brian Belden, just completed medical school in three years and is going to be interning at New York Presbyterian. He's a great guy." Dan grabbed a chair and straddled it. It was the only other chair at the doll-sized dining set.

"Still. I'd feel out of place." Jim unfolded his 6'4" from the other chair and refilled his coffee cup, waiting for the Keurig to do its magic.

"No, you wouldn't. Her dad owns a huge preserve, hundreds and hundreds of acres. They have a stable of horses that my uncle cares for. An outdoorsman like you would feel welcome there. I was the fish out of water," Dan grimaced. "Brooklyn kid sent to live in the wilderness. Man, it was a culture shock."

Jim broke into a rare laugh. "I wouldn't exactly call Westchester County the _wilderness_ ," he snorted.

Dan shrugged and grinned. "Hey, to a city kid who measured the green spaces he saw in feet rather than miles, it was overwhelming. All those trees! All that nature! Gave me nightmares. Besides, you'd fit right in. My uncle and Matt Wheeler both have red hair and green eyes. You wouldn't stick out so much there, Red."

"That would be a first. I don't know, Dan. I have a lot to accomplish here…"

"Bull. This apartment is immaculate, and I know you, Jim. You aced your oral defense and are just going to hightail back up to Rochester for the summer as you always do. Your mom and dad can wait. You might find it interesting to see how the other half lives."

 _But I am the other half._ Dan didn't know that, of course. In a couple of months, Jim would be inheriting a massive fortune that was kept in trust for him until his twenty-fifth birthday, which was this July. Uncle James, the great-uncle for whom he was named, was a shrewd businessman and left his entire estate to Jim.

J&N Holdings, LLC was a diversified, global powerhouse. The privately-held corporation was being managed by Winthrop Frayne, Jim's father, with the assistance of George Rainsford, a savvy attorney hired by Jim's great-uncle. The family never sought publicity; therefore, not many people were aware that the Fraynes were associated with the company. Even the name, J&N Holdings, was meant to keep their anonymity. James & Nell, the couple who took a small firm and expanded it exponentially.

Jim had just completed his Ph.D. in Strategy at Harvard Business School. Despite what Dan said, he did have a few things to accomplish. His lease on the apartment was up. He needed to move out by August first. He still hadn't decided where to live. His dad was touting Rochester; that was only natural they would want their only child up there with him.

Jim, however, considered New York City as his future base of operations. It just made business sense. "You still planning to leave Boston P.D. and go work in that little town you're from?" Maybe a change of subject would get Dan to forget about trying to convince him to go to some party where Jim would know only one other person.

"Yup. Got my seasoning here over the past couple of years. I used to think I wanted to work in a big-city police department, but, like the Good Witch said, all I want to do is click the heels of my Converses three times and say, 'There's no place like home.'"

"You have a position in the PD there?" _Good, my strategy seems to be working._

"No. I'm going into business with two friends. We're opening a detective agency. Baker Street Investigations, because our office is on Baker Street in New York City. We'll be close enough to home to commute. If we get stuck in the City, well, Honey and Brian will be there to bail us out."

Jim wrinkled his freckled nose. "I don't know, Dan. Doing clandestine surveillance on cheating spouses doesn't sound like the most enticing or interesting job in the universe."

A large Irish grin spread across Dan's face. "Oh, that's because you don't know my two partners. They've had, uh, a collaboration with the local, state, FBI and Secret Service for years. Come to the party, Jim, and I'll introduce you to them. It's a barbecue, so there won't be any of this suit and tie business."

Jim sighed and took another sip of his coffee. "You're not going to leave me alone until I agree, are you?"

"Nope."

"Okay, then. I'll be there with bells on."

888888888

 **Two Weeks Later…**

Jim Frayne was impressed. Really impressed, astonished, and amazed. Taking the Metro North train to Sleepyside, he watched through the window as the grit of the city gave way to the outskirts of the industrial area. Suburban sprawl came next, followed in short course by the pastoral beauty of the countryside.

He stepped off onto the platform, observing the train station. It was old but well-maintained. It was almost like stepping into another century when rail was king and only the very wealthy owned automobiles.

The feeling soon dissipated as he heard the distinctive roar of Dan's Harley. Lucky he only brought a backpack. If he arrived with a couple of suitcases, Jim had a feeling they'd be in deep sh… crap.

"About time you got here, Frayne." Dan was leaning against his bike, holding onto a black helmet with silver flashes of lightning down the side.

"Sorry." Jim shrugged his broad shoulders. "There was a last-minute snafu regarding the new tenant for my apartment. Apparently, the guy was under the impression that all the furniture came with it. We had to haggle over a price, and it wasn't easy, with the landlord breathing down both of our necks."

"I did hope that you would have gotten here early. I wanted you to meet all my friends here so that you won't feel so out of place tomorrow. However, the ladies are involved in last-minute preparations for the big do. Mart is hovering around Diana, his wife, who is due next month with their first child. Brian, the groom, is helping do whatever magic the ladies are doing. Probably under the stink eye from Honey."

"No problem." Jim glanced around at the town. "It seems charming. Sleepyside, I mean. No tall buildings, not a lot of traffic. It's really retaining its village aspect."

Dan handed him a second helmet. "They are intentionally keeping it that way. The zoning board has strict regulations. And when you have conservationists like Matt Wheeler and Ed Lynch in town, you can be sure they are keeping the Town Council on the straight and narrow."

"Good for them." A glint of copper in the fading sun caught Jim's eye. "What's that?"

"May I introduce you to Hoppy? Our resident grasshopper and aged weathervane. He's traditionally the first object to greet when you get into town."

Jim grinned at the delightful custom. "Well then, hello there, Hoppy."

"Climb on. We've got a ways to go."

The distinctive roar of the Harley precluded any coherent conversation between the two men. The magical little village soon gave way to a long, winding country road, bordered on both sides by dense forest. The trees were dotted every so often with bright red and white No Trespassing signs. He'd need to ask Dan about that.

They passed a gorgeous white farmhouse sprawling over several acres of a hollow set into the mountain. It was old but well cared for, with a wraparound porch and a long Fieldstone path leading up to it. A sign on the mailbox proclaimed it to be Crabapple Farm.

Before long, Dan slowed his breakneck speed and turned into a barely discernible gravel road. In fact, Jim would've passed it if he decided to drive up himself. The forest was so dense here that it was pressing against the sides of the road, ready to engulf it at its earliest opportunity.

They broke into a large clearing. To one side was a stable/barn. A mountainous pile of split logs was off to the other end. However, most of the clearing was taken up by a rustic log cabin style home. Even in the dusky light, Jim could see it had been added on to recently.

"Home sweet home," Dan quipped when he brought the bike to a halt as he hung his helmet on the handlebars.

"Sweet. Is your uncle home?"

Dan shrugged. "I don't know. He might be. I'm sure he's babying the horses. He doesn't like when a lot of people are on the grounds. Says it upsets his charges."

"Wait. I thought you lived with your uncle."

"Stay with the story, Frayne. My Uncle Bill was barely 22 years old when the court remanded me to his custody. There's no way he could've taken care of a surly kid from Brooklyn. I moved in with a crusty old mountain man, Jedediah Maypenny. This was his cabin. Mr. Maypenny was like a father to me. Father, a grandfather, and finally a good friend. I was a skinny little shit when I got here with a chip on my shoulder and an attitude to match. He knocked it out of me soon enough. I swear to God there were times that I thought I was splitting every fallen log in the preserve."

"Sounds like a good man. Is he home now?"

"No, he passed away two years ago. Still stubborn to the end. I wanted him to move to Boston to be with me, even temporarily. He wasn't going to the city, not even for me. My friend Trixie found him. Just passed away peacefully in his sleep. I was surprised that he left the cabin to me and enough money to do renovations." Dan shook his head. Even two years later, it was still raw.

"I'm sorry, Dan. You never said anything."

"Not one for wearing my heart on my sleeve, Jim. Besides, we weren't quite good enough friends at that point for me to be burdening you with my pain." Dan sighed and brushed it away. "Let me give you the grand tour of my humble abode."

Jim was fascinated by the old building, the part that Dan explained, Jed Maypenny built by hand. As the years passed, Jed added an indoor bathroom, septic system, and finally insulated the interior. It was rough-hewn and a slice of real, old, Americana.

"I had the kitchen updated when I added on last year," Dan explained. "Another bathroom, modernized the old one and attached to city water. I wanted to add a couple more rooms, bedroom, and enlarge the living and dining areas."

"That must have cost a pretty penny," Jim whistled.

"Sweat equity," Dan replied, opening the door to a nice-sized bedroom. The bed was antique brass with large pillows at the head and a colorful quilt. There were a dresser and mirror off to one side, a nightstand with a brass candlestick lamp, and a flat screen television against the wall opposite the headboard. There were a couple of watercolors on the walls, one of Hoppy and another of the old cabin. "I drove home almost every opportunity that summer and worked my butt off while you were swanning around up in Rochester."

"Me, swanning around? Like hell, Mangan. You try working for my dad. He's worse than Simon Legree. Nice house, nice room. When did you take up decorating?"

"Thanks. It wasn't me. Mart's wife, Diana, went to college for interior design. The quilt was made by Honey, and the watercolors were painted by Helen Belden, my second mom. You hungry? Wanna beer?"

"Yes to both," Jim smiled. He threw his backpack on the bed, and the two ambled out to the kitchen in perfect accord.

888888888

 **Up at Manor House…**

"Dan's bringing a plus one," Honey Wheeler, the radiant bride-to-be, whispered to her two bestest friends in the world. Brian was outside helping to supervise the placement of the tents.

"Who is she?" Trixie Belden narrowed her stunning blue eyes. Everyone always talked about Diana Lynch Belden's unusual blue-violet eyes. However, Trixie's were of a singular, brilliant blue and when and if she ever decided or learned how to use them, man, the male population would not stand a chance. "I didn't know Dan was seeing anyone."

"I don't know. Somebody from Boston, I suppose."

"Well, whoever she is, we won't have a repeat of what happened at my Valentines' Day party," Diana shuddered.

Trixie tied a bow imprinted with _Honey & Brian_ on another net bag of Jordan almonds, placing it in the vintage milk jars imprinted with _She Said Yes!_ that were being handed out as favors. "Who eats these, anyway? You guys are refining too much on what happened a couple of years ago. Nick and I are way past that."

"Are you sure about that, Trix? You haven't dated much since then." Honey looked troubled.

"Yup. And if you weren't dating my brother since Carter made Little Liver Pills, you would have been too busy to date, too. You know we were just casual, right? It wasn't like Nick Roberts was the love of my life or anything."

"Still, I know it had to give you a twinge or two," Diana persisted, loyal to her friend. She felt responsible, in a weird way. It was at her Valentines' Day party that Nick Roberts, that rat, publicly humiliated Trixie.

Trixie had been dating the dark, temperamental artist for about six months when Diana decided it would be a wonderful idea to hold a Valentines' Day dance for their senior graduating class. A mini class reunion of sorts. She rented out the Sleepyside Hook and Ladder Company Firehouse event space, using her designing skills to create a Valentine wonderland.

Everyone was having a wonderful time, right up until the time Dan brought his latest girlfriend. Gia Tonetti was as exotic as her name. Tall, with blue-black hair, olive skin, and eyes that rivaled India ink, they made a striking couple.

So striking, in fact, Nick became mesmerized by her. He grabbed Trixie's hand, pulling her along through the crowd until they were right in front of Dan and Gia. And it was then Dan and Trixie became bystanders on their own dates. It was obvious to anyone with eyes that Gia and Nick had one of those instantaneous connections.

The two spent the rest of the party together, going so far as to ditch their dates. As was usual in these sorts of things, not too many people commented about poor Dan. He was immediately surrounded by tons of single girls. Everyone felt sorry for good old Tomboy Trixie. She just couldn't keep a man. Although she kept her head high, you could tell that she was embarrassed and hurt.

"I'm not going to deny that I was pretty ticked off with Nick. At least he could've waited until after the dance!" Trixie shrugged her slim shoulders. "I guess love is sometimes like that. After all, Nick and Gia were married two months later; now have a bunch of kids. Good for them. And it's not like I have a plus one now, so there's fat chance of that happening again."

"I'm just interested to see who Dan is bringing tomorrow. I hope she fits in with our group." Honey rolled her eyes. "It would be horrible if he was dating some model or something who was more into what she's wearing or taking selfies."

"I don't think Dan would get into a relationship with someone like that, Honey. He's smarter than that. However, she is going to have to understand that his new job may entail working nights." Baker Street investigators. It was finally happening, and Trixie was more than excited.

"I guess we'll find out tomorrow. I just hope it doesn't rain." Diana rose to use the ladies room. All she knew was she was going to park herself in the chair closest to the nearest facility in Manor House.

 **Back at Dan's…**

The two men were sitting on Adirondack rockers on the porch, each clutching a bottle of beer. It was still a bit chilly at night, but they couldn't resist the sweet smell of the forest and the bright stars in the sky.

"I envy you living here, Dan. It's perfect. How much of this land belongs to you?" Jim took a long swallow of the ice-cold beverage.

"Not much. The actual land itself is shaped like a slice of pie. The driveway coming up here would be where the point is. The rest of the land around here belongs to Matt Wheeler. At some point, he tried to buy this piece from Mr. Maypenny, but the old man wouldn't sell. Mr. Wheeler started with a few hundred acres surrounding Manor House. He and Ed Lynch, who is Diana Belden's dad, have expanded that to thousands of acres. It's all private."

"I thought I saw no trespassing signs on the way up here."

"Yes, we do get poachers at times. Mr. Maypenny was the gamekeeper for Mr. Wheeler after they got over their little tiff. Eventually, it got too much for him. Wheeler now uses a couple of retired forestry experts. We have deer, bears, and even a few errant elk who have migrated from Pennsylvania. We also have the occasional catamount."

"It sounds like wild kingdom."

"It really is, Jim. The preserve is so vast and is constantly changing. I can't tell you how many times we've hiked it and found something new. Especially buildings. It seems every so often, another abandoned building pops up. Matt Wheeler has them taken down as soon as he knows about them. He recycles the wood and anything else that is recyclable. It's been pretty interesting." Dan took a long pull on the amber bottle warming in his hand. "You going back up to Rochester?"

"I considered it. My family is up there, but no. I figured the best place for my, uh, major right now is New York City." He was still loathe to reveal his status to Dan. Money always changed everything. Jim would rather have a nice place out in the country like this one rather than some fancy penthouse. Nothing elaborate, just a place to relax and raise a family.

"Wall Street, huh?" Not waiting for an answer to his rhetorical question, Dan went on. "I'll be close by, pal, if the place you work for ever needs background checks on new or current employees. We even do industrial espionage investigations. And you can come out here whenever you need to recharge."

"Thanks, Dan. I might just take you up on that." Jim settled back in his charge, watching the night sky, and enjoying the muted sounds of the forest.

The weekend would be over soon enough.

8888888

 **The next day…**

The Belden contingent walked up the well-worn path between Crabapple Farm and the mansion known locally as Manor House. It nestled at the top of the hill as if it were the crown jewel of the surrounding countryside – which it was. Expansive, manicured lawns surrounded the building, a green lake of soft grass. To the left and out of sight of the main house were the stables and paddocks that Bill Regan, Dan's uncle, ruled with the ironist of fists.

There was a barrier of trees between the stables and the main house. Another path led to a short walk down the hill to the Wheelers' private lake. It was acres and acres of pristine spring water, On one side was a boathouse, dock, and deck, outfitted during the summer months with a grill and lounge chairs. The boathouse served as the winter home for a rowboat, a canoe, and a couple of kayaks, a changing area, along with an abundant supply of soft beach towels and extra swim gear.

Situated right in the lake was a floating platform, just waiting for eager swimmers to approach it, haul themselves up, and spend a dreamy day just unwinding in the sun.

Situated a bit to one side was a tract of land gone back to nature. The lake, Manor House, and Crabapple Farm's land were the three points of a triangle. This piece of property was almost dead center. At one time, it was known as Ten Acres and proudly nestled there was a glorious Victorian mansion, a showplace for miles around. However, a fire ravaged it many years ago, leaving nothing but a smoking ruin. The owner had it razed, and it was a sore spot for Matt Wheeler.

The owner just would not sell.

"I tried to talk Maddie out of it," Helen Belden was saying to Peter, her husband, as they passed Ten Acres. "You know her, though! Brian and Honey don't want a large society wedding and Honey put her foot down. They were at loggerheads, and this is the compromise."

"Some compromise," Peter remarked as they approached what he thought of as the fairgrounds, with the tents rising in the distance. As per the instructions of the bride and groom, Helen wore jeans, sneakers and a bright blue t-shirt that announced she was the MOG, or mother of the groom. Peter had on a matching shirt with FOG. He figured the acronym was appropriate since all that was required of him was an open wallet.

Brian, their oldest, was already up at the house, dressed in his dark gold Groom t-shirt, as was the couple's only daughter, Trixie, similarly attired in a dark blue Maid of Honor shirt. Side by side, a person would never guess the two siblings were related at all – until you got a good look at their parents. B

Brian was about six feet tall, with coal-dark hair and eyes to match, almost an exact duplicate of his father. Trixie was petite, barely reaching five-four, and as blonde-haired and blue-eyed as Brian and her father were the opposite. She, her next-oldest brother Mart, and younger brother Bobby, all inherited the Johnson genes of their mother.

Mart was mostly silent as they made their way up the hill. He had dropped off his wife, Diana, earlier that morning, He had put his foot down about the shirt he was wearing. It was black with white lettering and had TBM or the best man. It originally just said BM, and he loudly protested he was NOT walking around with BM on his chest and back all day.

That would probably come later when the baby was born.

Diana's shirt was emblazoned with Team Bride, in a lighter blue than Trixie's shirt, with shiny gold lettering. Honey's shirt was white with gold lettering and simply said, Bride. Of course, Dan's t-shirt was black with Team Groom on it.

The ushers and junior bridesmaids – Bobby Belden and Diana's twin brothers Larry and Terry, and her twin sisters Athena and Aphrodite, wore black shirts with gold lettering that said Team Groom or Team Bride. Matt and Maddie Wheeler, joining in the fun, each had a shirt emblazoned with FOB and MOB in Honey's favorite dark gold with shiny gold lettering.

As the Belden family reached the crest, they saw they were far from the first to arrive. The valet service was parking cars, and a shuttle bus ran guests from the train station, The Glen Road Inn, or town to the festivities. Mart sighed. "Let the fun begin," he muttered, having lived through a society wedding with his beloved Diana, right before they were swallowed up by the rest of the crowd.

888888

"Are you sure this is okay?" Jim was dressed in jeans, a green short-sleeve shirt, and his favorite sneakers. It would be just like Dan to bring him casually dressed to a formal affair.

Dan rolled his eyes. "Have you looked at me? Team Groom? This isn't exactly haute couture from Bradford's Menswear."

They two men spent the morning exploring a little portion of the preserve. Dan pointed out the old schoolhouse, of the many buildings that dotted the sanctuary Matt and Ed Lynch were creating. "Brian Belden, his sister Trixie, and I spent a very cold and snowy night once in there. Their dog went missing in a blizzard, and we went looking for it. Man, it became a total whiteout, and we got lost. We stumbled upon the old schoolhouse we were ever thankful."

"You talk a lot about this Trixie. Is she the girl back home for you? How come you never hooked up?"

Dan snorted. "She's like my sister. Besides, she's high maintenance."

"Oh, you mean she wants diamonds and pearls and winters in Bali?"

"Nah. Not that way. She's… Trixie is one of a kind. Man, you can just see the energy snapping through her. She rides, swims, plays basketball like a pro, can sniff out a mystery at fifty miles, and probably could out-Sherlock Sherlock Holmes. I'll introduce you at the party."

As they climbed up the hill to the festivities, Dan pointed out Ten Acres. "There used to be a big old mansion there. It burned to the ground before any of us were born. This is another bit of land Mr. Wheeler doesn't own. Apparently, the owner does not want to sell. It's just been sitting here, going back to nature."

"Maybe the owner is planning to build condos on it or something."

"I'd like to see them try! The zoning board would never approve them. It's owned by a J&N Holdings Company, some big conglomerate, and they probably don't even realize they own it."

Jim's emerald green eyes widened. _Ten Acres is a family-owned piece of property. When did we purchase this property? I'll need to call home to find out all about this. How the hell did this happen? What are the odds?_

The duo passed by the stables on the way to the large white tents dotting the Manor House lawns. Bill Regan was soothing a large black horse.

"Hey there, Danny-boy. Settle down there, Jupiter." Bill Regan was tall and wiry, built like Dan, but with blazing red hair and changeable green eyes.

"Hey, Uncle Bill. This is Jim Frayne, my friend from my days up in Boston on the force. Jim, Bill Regan."

The two redheads took the measure of each other as they shook hands, each liking what the other saw. "Dan talks a lot about you, Mr. Regan."

"Regan. Just Regan. He also spoke very highly of you, Jim. Jupe here doesn't care much for the festivities going on up at the main house." As if to agree with the groom, the big black gelding snorted loudly.

"He's a handsome one." Jim extended his palm to the horse and allowed him to snuffle. To Reagan's amazement, Jupiter allowed Jim to stroke his nose.

"Well, Jim, I'm impressed. Jupiter doesn't like many people. Not even Mr. Wheeler."

Dan laughed at that. "I'm sure Matt Wheeler hasn't been told no by a horse many times. Jupe here took a shine to Trixie. He might as well be _her_ horse."

"I must say all this talk about Trixie has made me intrigued."

"Our Trix is one in a million. Maybe one in a billion or two. You just take care there, _Mr. Frayne_. We all don't want her hurt again, _right, Dan_?"

"I'll see you up at the house when you get the horses settled." Dan needed to escape from his uncle's glare. The pointed way that Bill Regan emphasize Dan's name and his piqued Jim's curiosity.

"I thought you told me that you and Trixie never hooked up. So why was your uncle insinuating that you hurt her in some way?"

"It was nothing like that. Trixie was seeing a guy in town occasionally. It was nothing serious; he wasn't the type that she could settle down with. Too brooding, too temperamental. You know, artistic." Dan made air quotes around the last word in his sentence. "A few years back, Diana threw a Valentines' Day dance. Trixie came with Nick, and I went with a girl I had been seeing, Gia. Let's just say we were both left flat by our dates who are now married with kids."

"Tough break."

"In our defense, neither Trixie nor I were thinking about registering for gifts at Crimper's. It was just one of those things. I blew it off, but Trixie was the subject of gossip for quite a while. Lots of jealous people out there, Jim."

They crested the top of the hill, and Jim whistled. "Wow. I think I've seen this place in _Architectural Digest_."

"Lifestyles of the Rich and Not-So-Famous. Well, there are Honey and Brian and the parents. Let the show begin."

"Bout time you showed up, Mangan." Brian grinned at his old friend, taking the sting out of the words.

"You know me. Free food, I'm there. How you doin', man?" Dan didn't settle for a mere handshake. No, he grabbed Brian Belden in a bear hug and squeezed.

"Doing okay. Glad this shindig is going to be over in a few hours."

Dan then turned to the tall, beautiful woman at Brian's side. "Are you certain that shirt shouldn't say _Bridezilla_ on it?"

"You better watch it there, Dan. I have it on good authority that Bradford's Menswear has these lovely tuxedos with big purple orchids all over them."

"Brian Belden and Honey Wheeler, may I present to you my friend from Boston, James Winthrop Frayne the second. Jim, these two people are some of the best of the best."

 _Oh, my. This man was Dan's plus one? When did Dan start…_ Honey needed to talk to Dan, Alone. She smiled at the tall, handsome man with red hair and startling green eyes. "Happy to meet you, Jim. I'm glad you could come."

"Dan talks a lot about all his friends here in Sleepyside, but he neglected to mention how pretty some of them are."

Honey colored a little. "Thank you."

Jim stuck out his hand to Brian Belden, noting his firm grip and the twinkle in his eyes. "Welcome to Manor House, Jim. Dan, don't forget to be at the stage at two. Meanwhile, go ahead, mingle, and grab some food before the hordes descend. And I do mean my brother, Mart."

Jim grinned at the easy camaraderie between the friends. "It looks like you have enough here to feed an army," he remarked.

"You haven't met Mart yet," both Dan and Honey replied in unison.

They next passed on to Peter and Helen Belden. Jim was surprised to learn the pretty blonde woman was Brian's mother. "You look like you might be his sister."

"Why, thank you for that, but I'm sure only my hairdresser knows how many grays I have."

"Don't listen to her, Jim. She looks as young and beautiful as the day I married her." Peter Belden grinned as his wife's eyeroll was almost audible. Frayne. Frayne. Now, why does that name sound familiar?

The last people in the impromptu reception line were the hosts of today's party, Matthew and Madeleine Wheeler. Honey was almost an exact supplicate of her mother, right down to the topaz eyes and princess-like air. "Oh, Matt. Jim has a look of you."

Jim realized why Dan told him he'd be right at home in Sleepyside. Matt Wheeler was another green-eyed redhead. "Any relation to Winthrop Frayne?" Matt demanded.

"Yes, he's my father."

"Damn! Knew it! You have the look of him, Jim."

"Wait. Jim is Win and Katie's son?" Maddie Wheeler turned, a real smile lighting her face.

"Yes, yes I am. How do you know them?" Jim's curiosity got the better of him.

"Your dad and I were roommates in college," Matt explained. "We had some great times, all four of us." Matt's smile darkened. "We promised to stay in touch when we graduated, but…"

"Life happens," Maddie added gently. "We'll need to catch up later, but right now we're holding up the line."

Jim walked away with Dan, stunned at the revelations today; his logical mind was going a mile a minute. What were the odds? Visiting Dan only to find that his family owned property in the area and his parents were friends of the Wheelers. Not through business, but personal friends who lost touch.

Jim and Dan made their way over to the food tent. The caterers were outside, busy grilling hamburgers, hot dogs and T-bones to perfection, replenishing the food trays as rapidly as they emptied. There were vegan burgers for those so inclined; trays of roasted veggies; chips, dips, and popcorn. One whole table was filled with every kind of salad a person could imagine, from just lettuce and tomatoes to more exotic concoctions, as well as macaroni, potato, and tortellini salad.

Dan led them to a table occupied by a beautiful, very pregnant woman and a blonde-haired man who had a remarkable number of plates in front of him.

"Let me guess," Jim whispered. "Mart and Diana Belden."

He was near enough so that Diana heard him and smiled. "Have a seat, gentlemen. What gave us away? The fact that I am a million months pregnant or the bottomless pit over there?"

"I think a little of both." Jim sat next to the laughing woman. She really was special, with her blue-black, long hair framing her perfect, oval face. Her eyes were arresting; an unusual blue-violet color. "I'm Jim Frayne, a friend of Dan's."

"Diana Lynch Belden and the steam shovel is my spouse, Martin."

"Pleasedtameetcha," Mart mumbled over a mouthful of steak. He was blonde like Helen Belden, with the same bright blue eyes.

Dan had to laugh. "I swear, Mart, how do you down all of that food and not gain an ounce?"

"Metabolism, my friend. Simple metabolism."

Jim and Dan tucked into their meals, as Mart made another foray and brought back a water for Diana and beers for the guys. "I've met everyone in your Glen Road Coterie except Trixie. Is she here?" There were too many people to count, milling around and drinking, laughing, and dancing to the music a popular DJ was spinning.

"Trix?" Mart snorted in the way only a brother could. "Can she sit still for five seconds? She's probably scoping the crowd out for potential criminals."

Dan and Diana burst into raucous laughter, causing some heads to turn their way. "It's true," Dan choked out. "She thinks they're lurking around every corner."

A little while later, Jim offered to clear the table _. Nothing like pitching in and helping. Besides, I'm not sure Diana could get up in her condition… and Mart looks as if he just might burst._ His offer was eagerly accepted.

He stacked up the plates, gave everyone a smile and took off for the nearest receptacle. Just sitting there eating, he was introduced to a great number of people. Dan and his friends seemed to know everyone from the chauffeur Tom and his wife Celia, all the way up to the Chief of Police.

He disposed of the garbage and turned to go back. The crowds parted for a minute in one of those run-of-the-mill moments that can be life-changing. His attention was drawn to a head full of the most glorious blonde curls.

The owner of said curls was standing outside the tented area, in animated conversation with someone. The sun was shining on those sexy curls cascading down past her shoulders, making his fingers itch to touch them. She had her back to him, and his eyes traveled the length of her, from her indented waist and round, luscious bottom to long legs encased in tight black yoga pants.

Her slender arms and hand were moving as she was talking, counterpoints to her conversation. The other person said something to make her laugh, a hearty deep laugh that came from the gut. She turned to go, and Jim's world tilted.

The oldie began to play in his scrambled brain _. Oh, how I wish everyone would go home, so I could say when I got you alone, let's lock the door and throw away the key. I can't wait to kiss you, oh no, one little minute more._

 _Oh, man. I'm in trouble here._

If Jim thought her rear view was intriguing, he was stunned when she turned, and he saw her full-on. Yeah, she had killer curves and filled out t-shirt in just the way he liked. But it was that hair and those eyes that caught him up.

Those long, golden curls framed a gorgeous face. One errant curl just begged for his fingers to tug on it, to see if it would spring back. And those eyes! The phrase big blue eyes must have been invented just for her. Even at a distance, he could tell they were thickly fringed and a singular, clear blue, She had a pert little nose and full, soft-looking lips that just begged to be kissed.

And right now, right this minute, right in front of the zillions of people that were milling about, he wanted to taste her skin. All of it, and then work his way to her mouth. In fact, he took a step towards her…

"Yo, Frayne, what's keeping you?" Dan's voice broke into Jim's trance. At that moment when he glanced at his friend, the woman vanished into the crowd.

Damn. Stifling his impatience, Jim colored a little and hoped all those lustful thoughts weren't written all over his face. "Just daydreaming."

"Uh-huh." Dan was about to satisfy his curiosity about the strange look on Jim's face when two soft arms encircled him from behind and gave him a tight hug. He'd know that touch anywhere. "Trixie!" He turned into her embrace, hugging her back.

"Glad to see you back, Daniel. Where's your plus one? When are you moving back?" Her questions were machine-gun fast. Trixie stole a quick glance around, but all she saw was the back of the tall redhead standing next to him.

And then, he turned. Every single thought in Trixie's overcrowded brain fled the premises as she found herself staring into brilliant emeralds and a lopsided grin.

"This scary-looking guy is my plus one," Dan smirked. "James Winthrop Frayne II, may I present Beatrix _Just call me Trixie_ Belden."

It was her. The gorgeous blonde. Jim extended a large hand. "Jim, to my friends." She placed her small, slender hand in his; both were unprepared for the shock that coursed through them.

"Trixie to my friends, of which Dan is teetering on the edge of not being one." Her lips moved, but she couldn't have repeated what she said. Jim heard her speak, her raspy, sexy voice spearing right through him.

Dan watched the two, trying to stifle his amusement. The chemistry that was fairly singeing the air between Jim and Trixie was almost visible.

"Hi, Jim."

"Hi, Trixie."

Jim realized he was still holding onto her hand and released it with some reluctance. Both felt incomplete without that immediate connection when they touched.

"Yeah, I'm just a potted plant here," Dan remarked.

They both turned to him. "Hi, Dan." Their voices rang out in unison.

"That's better. Trix, Jim is going to be moving out of Boston shortly, He's from upstate and moving to New York City. Jim, Trix is one of my partners. Best damn detective since Inspector Clouseau. "

"Hey!" Trixie punched him in the arm, none too gently. "I got your butt out of trouble enough times!"

"That you did," Dan relented. "Could you guys excuse me for a minute? I see Selma Vanderdyck zig-zagging her way here and I ain't about to get caught dancing with her all night." With a little salute, Dan vanished into the crowd. His disappearance did not thwart the hunter stalking her prey.

 _Jim is just about the most gorgeous male I have ever seen_. "When Dan said he was bringing a plus one, I had someone a little different in mind."

Jim rolled his eyes. "I'm sure he thought it was the funniest thing."

"Absolutely, Jim. Are you looking forward to your relocation? Did you find an apartment?" Trixie colored at her questions. "I'm sorry, my curiosity gets the best of me at times."

 _A woman who still blushes. Oh, lord_. "It's okay. I was about to ask how you hauled Dan's butt out of trouble. I am looking forward to starting my job. Boston is nice, but New York is home. I do have a place to live."

He didn't add it was a large, historic brownstone in the Village that was owned and renovated by his late uncle. It even had its own yard and driveway, and that was premium space in Manhattan.

"Rents are outrageous, aren't they? We're lucky that we were able to rent space in a building Honey's father owns." Why was she talking to him about mundane things as the price of real estate in the City when she could be taking him behind the tent and…

"Will you be living in the City, Trixie?" God, he hoped so.

"Not really, Jim. Matt Wheeler owns an apartment building among lots of other real estate there. Honey and Brian will move into one unit when they marry. I can stay with them if need be, Dan too. Honey and I have been living down there," Trixie gestured with one arm, nearly causing a waiter to lose his tray of hot dogs. "In Manor House's old gatehouse, near Crabapple Farm. We sort of refurbished it and decided it would be a great place to try out our independence without giving our parents heart attacks. I plan to stay there."

He knew she was talking. Jim could see her lips moving, but it was just so fascinating to watch her mouth and wonder how it would feel against his. Against his skin. He realized she was waiting for him to continue the conversation. "Ah, that's wonderful, Trixie."

 _I wonder if she'll give me her number._ He opened his mouth to ask when a clear, bell-like tone caught everyone's attention.

"All members of the bridal party, and honored guests, please report to the main tent."

"We're on. I just hope this goes okay," Trixie muttered. "I'll see you later, Jim." I wish.

"You can count on it, Trixie." He followed her at a discreet distance, entranced by the gentle sway of her hips.

The guests were buzzing as they made their way into the main tent, which had been closed off until now. There were rows of seats, and they quickly filled. A stage was at one end, and the consensus was Matt Wheeler had engaged a celebrity band or singer to provide entertainment.

However, when Matt and Maddie Wheeler entered, followed closely by Helen and Peter Belden, it was apparent they were just as surprised as the guests. Everyone watched as the wedding party ascended the steps to the stage, with Honey and Brian in the center. Trixie, Bobby, Larry, and Athena were on Honey's right. Mart, Dan, Terry, and Aphrodite were on Brian's left. The lights glinted off the gold lettering on their shirts as they smiled out at the crowd.

As they ascended the stage, Honey and Brian were given discreet headsets to wear. They stepped out in front of their attendants, smiling from ear to ear.

"Honey and I want to thank all of you for sharing in our joy of finally uniting our families as one," Brian began. "I always loved the girl next door. Even if she lived in a huge mansion and knew what a _mani-pedi_ was before her eighth birthday. I didn't find that out until much, much later."

The room erupted in laughter as Honey stepped in. "And I didn't know what _dancing phalanges_ were until I met Brian." She took a deep breath. "You all were invited to share our engagement party, but we have a surprise to share with you. It isn't just an engagement party. It's our wedding day."

The room erupted. Jim noted the surprise on the faces of the attendants – all except Trixie. That would be an area for him to explore later with her. The Wheelers were in shock as well as the Beldens. Brian continued. "Moms, Dad, Matt, Maddie… it's a bit unconventional. A bit messy. But, it's Honey and me. Would you please join us up here?"

There was no hesitation. Maybe Matt had a tiny twinge of regret he wouldn't be walking his only child down the aisle in an overpriced piece of white fluff. He loved Brian like a son, and he couldn't be happier about the match. Maddie shook a finger at the two but grinned to take the sting out of the rebuke. Her daughter eschewed the society balls and debutante introductions. Maddie wasn't surprised at all.

Helen and Peter Belden loved Honey as another daughter. They knew she'd be good for their sometimes overly studious and serious firstborn. Whatever wedding they couple wanted, Helen and Peter would support them all the way.

The wedding party and parents of the bride and groom were dressed more for a barbecue than a wedding. Despite the alternative, casual clothing, the ceremony, conducted by the Reverend Kinney was lovely and moving. The guests had a good laugh when Trixie had to fish the wedding rings from her bra, had a little difficulty, and her whispered _At least they're nice and warm for you_ was picked up by Honey's mike.

Jim's emerald gaze was riveted to her fingers. He was sure that every erotic desire filling him up was reflected in his burning regard. He had to catch up with her after the ceremony.

As the old movie line went, _It was a moral imperative._

When the I Dos and the kiss was exchanged, the glowing bride and groom turned to the assemblage. "Ok, everyone," Brian shouted. "Let's party like it's 1999!"

The bridal party went to a smaller tent, where recriminations were flying at a furious pace – all from Mart Belden directed at his sister and brother.

"You told Trixie, but you didn't tell me," he groused. "Why am I always the last to know?"

"Because you can't keep a secret, Mart," Brian informed his younger brother. "You were on the phone informing everyone and their brother that Diana was pregnant, and I don't even think the pee dried on the pregnancy test."

"Besides that," Honey went to forestall an argument in her tactful way. "Diana is a million months pregnant, and we hadn't even set a date yet. She's going to be awfully busy with a new child, work, and taking care of you, Mart. Brian and I just wanted to eliminate any more hoopla and expense."

"Well, it's a reason, but not a good one." The corners of Mart's lips tilted up.

"We're going to have a private, champagne toast and then we'll all join the festivities." Brian expertly popped the cork from the champagne and poured a generous portion into a flute for each person.

"Here's to Brian and Honey, may you grow old on one pillow," Dan raised his glass. Six hands reached up, and as one tapped the glasses together.

Honey took the time to grab Dan's arm and pull him to one side. "Okay, spill. What's with the plus one? You've always dated girls before."

Dan burst into loud, raucous laughter. Tears were streaming down his face as the rest of the bridal party turned to face them. When he finally got control of himself, he was still barely able to speak. "You think I'm dating _Jim_? Me?"

"Stranger things have happened, Daniel Mangan." Honey stamped her foot on the ground. She was going to get to the bottom of this.

"Well, he's not quite my type. I usually go for members of the female persuasion."

"So you're not dating him?" Honey narrowed her eyes.

"Hell no, Honey. Jim is a friend I made up in Boston. His moving to New York to work and I thought that I would introduce him to all my friends here. His family lives upstate, near Rochester. I figured he could use a few good friends since he'll be pretty far from home and you guys are just the best."

Dan leaned down and whispered into Honey's ear. "And I owed Trixie a favor. You know, after the whole Gia debacle."

"Jim's unattached?" Honey murmured back.

"One-hundred-percent. And the way those two were looking at each other, I think I've succeeded."

"You know how cagey Trixie is, Dan. Whether or not they get together remains to be seen."

"Bet you five dollars."

Honey considered this and decided to accept. Trixie kept telling everyone she was too busy to date. It was an easy fiver.

8888888888

Jim sought out Trixie as soon the wedding party left the tent and began to circulate. "Hey, Trixie."

"Hey, Jim. Did you enjoy the ceremony? I'm surprised we were able to keep it a secret."

"It was beautiful. Who all knew about it? Dan didn't mention one thing to me."

"The bride, the groom, and the maid of honor. Of course, Rev. Kinney knew about it."

The DJ began to play a sweet, slow ballad. "Would you like to dance?" Yeah, he would certainly like to, especially to this song. One where he could hold her close to his heart.

She smiled up at him and moved closer. When they touched, a frisson bolted through each. Trixie laid her head on his broad chest as his arms encircled her. A huge sigh escaped from Jim. Improbably, they fit together as if they were destined to dance through life.

Trixie closed her eyes, listening to the strong beat of his heart. Their steps matched as they danced, oblivious to the stares and whispers. They didn't need to speak. Their bodies were doing it all for them.

Helen Belden glanced at the young couple on the dance floor, encased in a bubble of pure… well, lust was a part of it. There was something so right about the tall redhead and the petite blonde. Jim Frayne, huh? She'd need to do a little motherly investigation.

After all, Trixie got it from somewhere!

Peter approached her with a cup of punch. "What's all that?" he growled, gesturing to his daughter dancing with – what was his name again? Oh yeah, Jim Frayne.

"Young love," Helen sighed, a twinkle in her blue eyes.

"Helen, she just met him!"

"And I kissed _you_ goodnight on our first date, Mr. Belden."

"Yeah, but…"

"No buts. Trixie is a grown woman. She can make her own choices, Peter, and we have to respect that."

He handed her the cup he clutched. "Yeah, well, we don't have to like it."

88888888

Time has a habit of making an Olympic sprint just when you don't want it to; other times, it's 10.30, and six hours later, a person glances at the clock, and it's 10.35. This was one of those made-a-new-world-record sprints. The bride and groom bade everyone a good night, hopped in their limo and were off to New York City for a night. After that, a 10-day cruise with Lindblad and National Geographic, exploring Costa Rica and the Panama Canal.

"Not quite my cuppa tea," laughed Trixie as she waved them off. "I'm more the let's spend two weeks alone on some tropical island type."

Jim filed that tidbit away to think about later. "Uh, can I walk you home?" Oh, lord, I sound like some nervous teenager from a 50s sitcom.

"I'd like that, Jim, but do you know your way around here? I think I should walk you home. Dan is otherwise engaged." Trixie tilted her head to point out Dan and a pretty lady, one she didn't know. "She's probably a client or vendor of Mr. Wheeler's," Trixie informed Jim, sotto voce. "I'll bet he ends up at the Glen Road Inn tonight. Or coming home early in the morning, doing the Walk of Shame for the squirrels."

Jim was surprised into a bark of laughter. "Yeah, that's Dan for you. Although I don't think he has been as much of a player as you think he may be."

Trixie shrugged and smiled. "C'mon, let's say our goodbyes, and I'll walk you to my house and then Dan's, so you can orient yourself."

"I don't think Dan heard us say goodnight," Jim grinned as they walked along the well-worn trail to the old gatehouse.

"Probably not. The house just around the bend here."

They walked into a small clearing with a gravel driveway leading up to it. "In the old days, this driveway went right up to Manor House. The gatekeeper and his family lived here, poor things. They were on call 24/7 from what I understand."

The building itself was two stories of roughhewn stone. It was obvious a new roof, and weathertight windows were added. It was a cottage, really, but somehow just right. "It's great, Trixie. I suppose the driveway led up to Manor House."

"Yes, it did originally. One of the past owners decided that when the horseless carriage came in, it would be better to install the driveway so that it gently sloped down the hill." She paused in front of the sturdy door with an unobtrusive security system. "Would you like to come in? I want to get a flashlight. Even though it's staying lighter a little longer, the forest can get dark."

"I'd like that. Are you sure you want to walk me to Dan's? I hate to think of you being alone in the dark."

"I've been walking these trails all my life, and if it weren't for the fact I'm a klutz, I wouldn't even need the flashlight." Trixie unlocked the front door. "C'mon in, Jim."

The inside was cozy. A small kitchen and dining area opened to a larger living room area with a fieldstone fireplace dominating one end. "The bathroom is through that door if you want to use it, Jim."

"This is nice, Trixie. Thanks, I think I will."

Two bedrooms and another tiny bathroom were upstairs. Trixie and Honey were grateful that Matt Wheeler helped them out with the technical part of the renovations, which included getting rid of the outhouse in the back and connecting to city water. A combination of solar power and an inconspicuous wind turbine provided more electricity than the girls needed.

Trixie rummaged in the junk drawer for the flashlight, hoping it was there and not in the car she and Honey shared. Tom, the Wheelers' mechanic and chauffeur, was fixing the transmission while they were home.

Jim came out of the bathroom, charmed by the old-fashioned feel of the clawfoot tub and pedestal sink. "I love those old clawfoot tubs. Man, they had it right back in the old days. Big enough for two!" He colored as he realized how that might sound.

"Ya think? Would you like something to drink? I have water, apple cider or plain old Bud if you want a beer."

"Cider would be nice." _Anything to spend a few more minutes with you._

As it turned out, Jim and Trixie spent much more than a few minutes over some cold cider. They sat on the comfy couch in the living room, just talking and talking and talking. Soon, the busy and emotional day began to take its toll on both. Trixie's stunning eyes began to flutter closed as she leaned back, relaxed.

Jim was tired himself, thought he'd have no problem finding Dan's place, but he just didn't want to move. Before long, he was also sound asleep. He never heard the chime on his cell phone with Dan's message _Don't wait up for me, bro!_

The funny thing was, when they woke up in the morning, neither was embarrassed or felt awkward. It seemed natural to wake up together and perform the normal morning rituals together. Eventually, though, Jim had to return to the cabin. It was time for him to catch the train to the City and begin his new life at the helm of the family firm.

Trixie walked him to Dan's, who, thanks to some heavenly intervention, had not yet made an appearance. They stood on the porch, neither one wanting to break the connection spinning a titanium web around them,

"Uh, I'd like to see you again, Trixie," Jim stated. Not a question. A statement, as he gazed into her crystal eyes. The ones he was sure were going to haunt him forever.

"I'd like that, Jim." They exchanged numbers, made a date for the following weekend.

And then his fingers did something they itched to do since he first spied that head of golden curls. He wound one around his finger, so soft and silky. A tiny tug, a little stumble, and his lips found hers. Those yellow strands bound them, heart to heart, for all time.

He released it when they both needed oxygen, amused and amazed it simply spiral back to its original shape and position.

Thus began the courtship of Trixie Belden. They were both busy throughout the summer and fall. Jim was putting his stamp on the company with the full backing of Winthrop Frayne. Things were getting shaken and rearranged – right down to awarding a contract to Baker Street Investigations to do background checks on prospective employees.

Trixie, Honey, and Dan were busy in their new office, too. Baker Street Investigations was off and running at an incredible clip. There were background investigations to complete for both Wheeler/Hart Enterprises, Inc. and J&N Holdings. A few smaller companies joined the fray. To their surprise, they didn't do as much work as they assumed they would for cheating spouses, although some came their way, Trixie suspected the higher-level cases they had were the result of some of the contacts she made with various police departments and government agencies during the years past.

Trixie and Jim took the weekends they could, holing up in Trixie's little house and hiking the preserve. They both required the time in the outdoors to refresh, rejuvenate, connect with nature and each other. Their relationship moved at a quick clip from a first kiss to both participants leaving personal items at each other's place.

Jim was accepted by Trixie's friends and family… even when Dan took him to one side and gave him a lecture about not hurting the woman he thought of as his sister. Jim merely laughed and advised Dan he already had the same talk with Peter, Brian, and Mart Belden, as well as Honey and Matt Wheeler. And if that didn't scare him away, nothing would.

Because of Jim agreeing to attend a party, Win and Katie Frayne were able to renew their friendship with Matt and Maddie Wheeler. In a strange coincidence, Jim discovered that his Aunt Nell owned the property, Ten Acres, between Crabapple Farm and Manor House. It was her family's house that burned down a long time ago, never to be rebuilt.

And how serendipitous that Jim Frayne now owned Ten Acres and was making plans for it.

888888

One fine fall day, Jim and Trixie were out hiking deep in the preserve. There were acres and acres to be explored, new discoveries around every corner. They brought a tent, warm sleeping bags, and enough food for a weekend camping. No cell phones, satellite phones, and all other electronic devices were left at Trixie's.

All they needed was shelter, a bit of nourishment, and _JimandTrixie_ time.

"The problem is," Trixie was saying. "The issue is that the forest reclaims all. As fast as Matt Wheeler's game wardens create new trails, the vegetation repossesses them." They were following a newly created trail, but it was tough going.

"At least you know this will be here for the next generation." Jim paused, glad he didn't say what he really meant. It would be there for their children.

His parents loved her. His cousin, Juliana, felt the same. Jim himself had a whole new coterie of friends and family that didn't give a hoot about how rich he was, even if they had known. That was one secret he was holding close to his chest, at least for now.

There were benefits to having a privately-held company. One of which was the press was uninterested in non-sensational stories.

He wasn't sure how Trixie would react, and he knew he had to tell her. She was probably the only woman in the world who would take offense to his inheritance.

"Jim, it will be getting dark soon, what do you say we look for a place to set up camp?" Trixie's sexy, raspy voice broke into his musings.

"Sounds good, Trix. I'm hungry." He met her sapphire eyes with his emerald ones, and there was no doubt of what he was hungry for.

 _Her._

Trixie was still surprised at the undeniable desire that shone through him whenever they were together. For her, for plain old Trixie Belden. She wasn't tall and gorgeous like her sisters-in-law. She was petite and curvy, and in Jim's eyes, all woman.

They reached a rather large clearing, almost circular in nature. "This looks like a good place," Jim remarked, putting down his backpack. "We can set up camp right here and be far enough from the underbrush not to worry about sparks." There was an outcropping of boulders that provided a natural seat, too.

"Sounds like a plan, babe."

They worked together to get the tent set up and gather some old wood for the campfire. Before long, the stew was on the way to cooking in the pot, its delicious scent making their stomachs growl.

"I love it out here," Trixie murmured, sliding closer to Jim. His strong arm went around her.

"Me, too." _With you. I love you._ He wanted to give life to those three most important words, but he couldn't. Not yet.

They ate and cleaned the site as Jim hung their food in a nearby tree. "I think the bears are all going to hibernate now, but better to be safe than sorry," he smiled. Trixie added more wood to the fire as night began to fall and the Milky Way ribboned through the sky.

"So beautiful," Jim murmured, pulling her onto his lap. That hair and those eyes beckoned to him, spoke to his innermost soul.

"You can't see anything like this in the City," Trixie agreed, missing his point.

"No, you're beautiful." Jim's deep voice rang with sincerity; Trixie felt the truth of his words down to her toes. And at that moment, she believed she was beautiful.

He carried her to the tent, and they made love under the stars. It was passionate, sweet, and powerful. Exhausted, they fell asleep in each other's arms, warm and cozy in their own bubble of reality.

The next morning, Trixie became aware of an urgent need. She dressed quickly, leaving Jim still sleeping with a slight tilt of his lips. She hoped he was dreaming about her and quashed the sudden urge to lick the freckles sprinkled on his face. Did they taste like brown sugar, or was it her imagination?

She stepped out of the tent, stretching in the sun. The fire burned down during the night; they'd have to get it going again. She glanced around the clearing looking for a suitable place to take care of business when she saw it.

 _Am I seeing things? That wasn't there yesterday. At least, I don't think it was._

In the north part of the clearing, in the shadows of the trees, there appeared to be an old, abandoned building.

Jim stepped out of the tent then, missing her softness and warmth. He followed her gaze to the building. "Huh. Where did that come from?"

"Gleeps, then it's not just me, Jim. I don't remember seeing that yesterday." Trixie was itching to go and investigate. She was not the impetuous thirteen-year-old she had been. The girl who went charging into dangerous situations and thought about it later.

"It was late afternoon when we started setting up, Trix. It's set back from the clearing, and it could be that the afternoon shadows hid it." It was the most logical explanation, even if Jim himself didn't quite buy it.

Trixie turned to him. "The preserve is noted for abandoned structures just popping up out of nowhere," she said dryly. "What do you say we have breakfast and go investigate?" She held her breath, hoping Jim wouldn't say it was too dangerous. The building was in terrible shape, but still… what was it doing so far into the forest?

"I'd like to get a closer look, too. Yeah, let's do that, babe." In the meantime, he couldn't resist her sleepy eyes or the memory of their lovemaking last night. One passionate, satisfying kiss later, they set about their camp chores, both dazed by the eruption of desire that consumed them in a fiery blaze.

888888

Later in the morning, they approached the old building. Its clapboards were dark gray with age; some of them were loosened and falling off. The door was missing as were the windows and they could see clear right through to the other side.

"I think this used to be a church, Jim. See the steeple? I bet there was a bell in there."

"I think you're right, Trix."

"Why would someone build a church way out here? We're not near town at all."

"It could be someone's private chapel," Jim observed. "Or there may have been a small town near here hundreds of years ago, and it was abandoned or moved."

"It's possible." But not probable. "I think we've stumbled upon a mystery, Jim." Her eyes were bright, and an air of excitement pumped off her.

"And my detective is just the person to solve it." His detective. The words sent a thrill of possession through both. It was a tacit acknowledgment they were moving ever closer.

They explored the ruins until it was time for them to pack up camp and make their way home. Weekends together were much too short. In front of the old building, Jim decided to make his confession to her. It seemed rather appropriate.

"Trix, can I talk to you about something?" His voice was quiet, serious.

"You can talk to me about anything, Jim." Inside, a feeling of trepidation began to build. _What was he going to tell her? He was married? Had a girlfriend? Wanted to break up?_

"Yeah, well." He ran a hand through his glorious red hair, glinting with copper and gold highlights in the dappled sun.

Trixie laid a hand on his forearm, staring up into his troubled, emerald gaze. "You can tell me anything, Jim."

"Well, you know I work at J&N Holdings in the City. You've been to my place there."

"Yes, I know you have a big job there, and the brownstone belongs to your family." Where is he going with this?

"J&N Holdings is one of the largest, privately-held companies in the world. Because it is not a public company, they don't have to release information about it. How much it is worth, who governs it. They don't have to report to investors."

"Did you find something wrong there? Are they doing something against the law?"

"No, nothing like that at all." Jim sighed; this was so much more difficult than he thought. "My great-uncle James, for whom I am named, took the family business from great to a global juggernaut. He and my Aunt Nell never had children, to their sorrow. When he died, I inherited everything on my 25th birthday. Last July." Jim searched her face, growing concerned as she paled, and those sapphires widened in shock.

"What?" she asked, her voice a whisper. _Did I hear right?_

"My father has had stewardship of the company until I reached the age of majority, according to Uncle James' stipulations. He still is the Chairman until the end of this year, and then I will take over unless I decide to postpone it."

Trixie felt quite dizzy. "So, the brownstone we stay in belongs to you."

"And the land between Crabapple Farm and Manor House… it belongs to J&N Holdings. Ten Acres was originally in my Aunt Nell's family. When she married my uncle, they moved to Rochester and decided not to rebuild."

Trixie began to pace back and forth. That was not a good thing, to paraphrase Martha Stewart. "Why didn't you tell me all this before, Jim? I feel so stupid."

"Because you wouldn't go out with me, Trix. Be my girl," Jim said, quiet and serious. When she began to bluster, he held up a hand to stop her. "You wouldn't have, Trix. I know you. You'd beat yourself up and convince yourself that you were worth nothing more than a dalliance to a rich guy. _You're_ so much more than that, baby. _We're_ so much more than that."

"But I don't want to be accused of dating you for money, Jim. Compared to you, my family is as poor as church mice."

Jim 's Famous Frayne Temper began to assert itself. "That's stupid, Trixie," he argued, raising his voice. "You are friends with Honey and Diana. Your brothers married into the Wheeler and Lynch families. How is it any different with you?"

"Because it is for _females!_ " she shouted right back, going toe-to-toe with him. "Honey married Doctor Brian Belden. Diana married Martin Belden, _investigative journalist_ for one of the big four television stations in the City. I don't even know if Baker Street Investigations will make it through the first year. And I'll be called a gold-digger or worse."

"That's bull, Trix, and you know it. It's not like we're going to end up on the front page of a gossip site or one of those sad television programs that do nothing but comment on people's private lives. Were Brian and Mart called _gigolos_?"

"I don't care what they were called. This is about you and me. I'm not the corporate girlfriend type, Jim. I can't be the little woman in the background. I'm not skilled at throwing dinner parties and making nice to business partners. I would be a liability to you." Her blue eyes darkened to a fiery cobalt as she yelled back at him.

Jim gestured with his arm at the space they now occupied. "Does this look corporate to you? That's what Personal Assistants are for, Trixie. If I wanted an airhead, I certainly could have dated one in college." Damn, she was even prettier when she was angry.

"I don't want to embarrass you, James. I love you too much…" She clapped her hands over her errant mouth, blushing a fiery red.

Jim heard. Jim heard those words they had not yet said out loud. A light switched on inside him, illuminating and warming him; unleashing the full glory of those brilliant green eyes. Whatever they were fighting about – he couldn't seem to remember over the thundering beat of his heart or the neurons firing within – whatever they were fighting about melted away.

"I love you, too. More than I can say," he murmured. He just had to taste those soft lips again. He just had to seal this moment with the consummation his body was screaming for.

Later, they packed up their camp and headed back to the workaday world, both pausing to glance back at the clearing and the building. Each knowing they would be back to the sacred place where their love was defined in words and deeds, and secrets were given up with the freedom that comes from finding one's soulmate.

They never noticed that one of the gray boards of the church turned pure white.

8888888

 **December 23rd…**

A soft snow was falling as Jim and Trixie made their way through the preserve, back to the clearing. Fallen leaves, now dull, littered the ground, made pretty again by their snowflake clothes. The trail wasn't as difficult this time; Trixie wasn't sure if it was due to vegetation going into hibernation or if Matt Wheeler's gamekeepers were able to beat it back for the season.

Christmas Eve and Christmas were days for family, extended and nuclear. Win and Katie Frayne were in the brownstone in New York, ready to join the festivities at Crabapple Farm and Manor House over the next two days.

Katie, being a mother, couldn't help snooping around a little. "Just a little," she informed an amused Win. "She has toiletries in Jim's bathroom. And I noticed the laundry basket had some of her things in it, too."

"She has a name, Katie."

Katie rolled her eyes, placing slender hands on her hips in indignation. "Of course, she does, Win. _Trixie._ I know that. She's practically living with him here."

"And I am sure he has the same amount of stuff over at her place, dear."

She sat down on Win's lap, tucking her head in the cook of his neck. "Our boy is going to marry her, isn't he?"

Win smiled and hugged her to him. "If he has a lick of sense, he will. She's smart, pretty, and adventurous. Just the type our boy needs. Trixie can keep up with him – in fact, I think he's gonna have a hard time keeping up with her."

Katie smiled against Win's deep green polo shirt and sighed. "We'll be grandparents, Win."

"We're going to have to consider moving down here. Jim is going to rebuild Ten Acres; he told me so."

"Oh, I know. I made an appointment with a Lester Mundy Real Estate after Christmas. Might as well get looking now."

"Grandparents, huh? I think Pop-pop sounds just swell."

8888888

Jim and Trixie broke through the forest into the clearing. It was completely white by this time, silent and beautiful. Snow was coating her long lashes as she turned to Jim, surprised to see him down on one knee.

It was only fitting that he take their relationship to the next step in the same place where the first professed their love.

"Marry me, Trixie. I love you so much. Let's grow old together, make a family together. I can't promise you we'll never argue, but I can promise I'll love you forever and be faithful." He held out a small box with an antique diamond. It wasn't overly large, rather simple. "It was my Aunt Nell's. Please say yes." Bright emerald eyes sparkled with anticipation and hope.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes! I love you, Jim, and arguments will just be the catalyst for all those wonderful making up sessions," she giggled.

He stood then, filled with joy and slid the ring on her finger, bending down to kiss her. The wind picked up and howled, and the snow intensified to white-out proportions. Jim pulled her close, wondering if they were about to freeze to death before they could marry. "What the hell is going on?" he growled in her ear. "I didn't hear anything about a blizzard."

As suddenly as the snow squall started, it stopped. The sky cleared and became the brightest of blues. And they were both shocked when they gazed over to where the abandoned church once stood.

It was completely rebuilt, a pristine white to match the unbroken snow. A Christmas wreath provided a hint of holiday color over the door, and several small pine trees guarded the entrance.

They watched as the door opened, and a stout little man in a minister's garb called to them. "Well, now, just hurry along there, Mr. Frayne and Mistress Belden. We have a lot of things to accomplish in a short amount of time, and I'm letting the heat escape."

"How does he know who we are? Let's go see what he wants, Jim," Trixie whispered. _A mystery was brewing right in front of them._

"He might be a serial killer, Trix," Jim hissed back.

"Babe, I seriously doubt many serial killers refurbish old churches. We need to find out who this man is and why he's trespassing in the preserve." And how he knows our names.

Jim shrugged, took a measure of the man. I can take him if need be. "You're the detective. Let's go."

As they approached him, they both noted he was wearing rather old-fashioned clothing. A heavy black cassock with buttons running down its length was partnered with a long, black robe with bell selves that were cuffed. A panel of black velvet ran down each side of the opening. His neck was swaddled in white preaching tabs.

"Come along, come along, you two. It's cold out there!" The minister shut the door after the couple entered, startling them. Jim prepared to fight for their lives if he had to. Trixie, however, was bursting with curiosity.

"Who are you? When did you remodel this church? Do you know you're on private property? How did you know our names?" Trixie rattled off her questions faster than a speeding bullet.

"My, my, my, child, you are the inquisitive one. I'm the Reverend Aloysius Alden, and this is my church. I know who you are because you woke us up." The man was roly-poly, with a kind, smiling face and twinkling brown eyes.

"Us? There are more of you?" Jim demanded. This is not good.

"Of course, my son. My congregation. We're all waiting for you. Right through those doors."

"Waiting for us? Why are you waiting for us?" Trixie pressed closer to Jim, her subtle body language indicating be ready to make a run for it. "How did we wake you up?"

Rev. Alden folded his chubby, stubby fingers together. "By being yourselves. By being pure in the love you share, not only for each other, but for your families, friends, communities, and the lovely earth that God has created for us. This is the first time in three hundred years that we have awoken, to share your joyful wedding day."

"But, Jim just proposed! We don't have a license, or… or anything!" Trixie's head was whirling. Was this guy nuts?

"What exactly happened here, Rev. Alden? If, indeed, you are a reverend." Jim was in a protective stance. He'd give his life for the woman that only came up to his heart. That was his heart.

"Oh, my word. I can see I'll have to explain." Sadness deepened the brown of his eyes. "Three hundred years ago, a few of us broke off from the main colonies in what is now Massachusetts. We were led to this lovely, unspoiled, fertile land here near the Hudson. We established our community here, right around this church we built." Rev. Alden spread his hands open. "It was peaceful, the land was giving up its bounty… we were even creating an alliance with the native tribes."

"What happened then?" Even if this guy was absolutely bonkers, Trixie had to know.

"Yellow fever. The Black Vomit, we called it. It spread throughout our community, decimating the population. The survivors gathered here in the church to pray to the Lord to send us some relief. He answered our prayers, but not quite in the way we expected. But He did send a miracle."

"What kind of a miracle?" Trixie believed in miracles. Every day there were tiny miracles occurring on earth. The love she found with Jim; the birth of a child; the wonder of the universe around her.

"We stayed in the church, praying that the Lord would hear us. That night, a fog began rolling through the church. We gathered together, frightened, sick, and then… then we all went to sleep. And the Lord spoke to us in dreams. We would come back for a day when the purity of love touched our community once more, to celebrate a wedding. You are the catalyst. For the first time in three hundred years, we can touch the snow, smell the fresh air, feel the cold. Come, let us rejoice in the name of the Lord."

Rev. Alden threw open the doors to the simple sanctuary. There were hard, wooden pews. Men, women, and children turned to face the trio, their faces aglow with happiness and health.

If this was a hoax, it was an elaborate one. The congregation was clothed in old-fashioned, modest garments. Bonnets covered the heads of the women and female children who glanced shyly at the oddly dressed couple standing with their beloved minister.

"What happens now, Rev. Alden?" Trixie whispered. A part of her wanted to believe. Another part worried that by walking into the church, she would be putting herself and Jim in some unnamed danger.

"Why, you get married! There's a feast awaiting us in the hall. We've been waiting a long time for you."

"What happens to all of you once we, uh, marry and celebrate?"

"That, my dear, is up to a much higher power than I. Mayhap we'll go to sleep until the next couple wakens us. Mayhap we'll be taken to the glories of Heaven. But, time is wasting. Come, remove your outer garments and rejoice in the sanctity of wedlock!"

Jim and Trixie stared at each other as the minister made his way to the altar. "It can't hurt, Trix," Jim whispered. "if we humor them…"

"Good practice," Trixie whispered back. She shrugged her shoulders. What harm could it do?

The two approached the cleric waiting for them for three hundred years, or so he said. The ceremony was short; the words flowed over them like honey. When it came time to place the rings on each other's fingers. Jim grimaced. "Afraid we didn't come prepared, sir."

"Why, yes you did, my son. Reach into your pouch and bring forth the infinite circle of life."

Jim reached into the small pocket in his jeans, feeling the warmth of metal bands. Two plain gold rings, one for him and one for her.

"Place the ring on Mistress Belden's finger and repeat after me." The Reverend said the magic words that would bind Jim to Trixie throughout eternity. "Your turn, Mistress Belden."

Trixie's hand shook as she placed the plain gold band on Jim's finger, but her voice was sure and strong. It felt… right. It felt real.

The reverend smiled and pronounced the words they both waited to hear. "You are now pronounced man and wife. What God has joined, let no man pull asunder. You may kiss your bride."

Jim bent down, uncaring of the enthralled eyes of the congregation. "Love you," he whispered against her lips.

"Right back atcha," was all she could reply before those talented lips claimed hers.

A loud cough from Rev. Alden broke them apart, dazed with the emotional ceremony, even if it was just indulging this kindly old man. The congregation whooped and hollered, and Jim and Trixie Frayne trooped into a small meeting hall. The table was laden with goodies: roasted fowl; a joint of venison; a leg of mutton. There were potatoes, freshly baked bread, and milk to wash the mean down. Strawberry shortcake replaced the white tiered cake that usually graced wedding receptions.

Small children approached Jim and Trixie, shyly asking to touch their strange clothing. It was a communal celebration for just for them in this small, sleepy, magical place. As they glanced around, it was not just a celebration of their union, but of family, friends, and the faith that sustained them. It was a celebration of the magic of life that surrounds and sustains this crazy old planet an its inhabitants.

All too soon, the rotund and jolly minister stood. The congregation quietened down as he offered a prayer for the newlyweds and for the congregation itself. "It's time for you to return to your lives, Mr. and Mistress Frayne. It is time for us to go back to sleep."

He led them back to the front door, the entire congregation following. "Godspeed, my children," he smiled as Jim and Trixie stepped outside. There were shouts of goodbye that became ever fainter as they took a step into the cold, crisp air. It was snowing again, hard. A thick mist was enveloping the ground, swirling about their feet and creeping ever higher.

They took a few steps forward and looked back. They could barely see the church; the bell tolling their wedding happiness was muffled in the blizzard-like conditions. Jim grabbed Trixie's mittened hand as if it were a rope leading them to safety.

"C'mon, baby," he yelled over the roar of the wind. They walked into the wind and blowing snow, and…

They were standing in their clearing. A few inches of snow covered the ground; the sky was bright and the sun shining. On the opposite end were the ruins of a chapel. In a moment, the gray, weathered, beaten-up old building was reclaimed by the forest.

"Did all of that just happen?" Trixie searched Jim's face. "Or were we suffering from some crazy folie a deux?"

88888888

A short time later, Jim and Trixie arrived at Manor House, surprised to find everyone waiting for them. "Congratulations!" the crowd yelled, and they were passed from person to person to be kissed and petted.

They didn't even have time to remove their outer garments before Peter Belden was holding up a flute of champagne and making a toast. "Well, you two certainly surprised all of us by eloping," he said to Jim and Trixie's shock. "And although I did not get to walk my little girl down the aisle, you save me a bundle in wedding costs! Congratulations, Jim and Trixie. I hope your marriage is as wonderful and fulfilling as mine has been."

M-married? What was all this about eloping? How did everyone know…

Trixie pulled off her mitten. Nestled underneath the ring Jim had proposed to her with just a short time ago was the plain gold band that Rev, Alden had supplied in an old church somewhere in the preserve.

Jim's ring finger contained the matching band. Before they could say anything, Honey came up to them, tears in her beautiful hazel eyes. "Oh, you two! Eloping at Christmastime! What could be more romantic than that? I was just hoping you'd make it back before Christmas Day, and here you are. My Christmas Eve present!" She threw her arms around them and hugged them to her.

Trixie's hand was clutching Jim's so tight, it was hurting him. "Ah, yeah, Honey. We need to get these coats off. I'm broiling!" Trixie tugged Jim out of the room. "What on earth is going on, Jim? Has everyone lost their minds?"

As Jim removed his coat, a large envelope fell out. "What's this?" His long, strong fingers pulled out the certificate from within. His emerald eyes widened as he showed it to Trixie. "It's a Certificate of Marriage, baby. See? There are our names. It's from the City Clerk at Sleepy Hollow."

"Look who it's signed by," Trixie whispered.

In an old-fashioned flourish, the certificate was signed by the Reverend Aloysius Alden.

"There really are Christmas Miracles, Jim," Trixie said, a note of wonderment in her voice. "We're really married."

"We really are." Joy was fountaining through them, joy and wonder and everything amazing. Jim took her in his arms. "I'm so happy right now, Trixie Frayne."

"Trixie _Frayne._ Oh, Jim!" She went up on tiptoes for his kiss, which was again interrupted.

"C'mon back to the festivities, you two," Katie Frayne called to them from the doorway. "It's Christmas Eve, and we're celebrating a wedding and an impending birth."

Jim and Trixie smiled, linked hands and went to join the rest of their loud, happy family. Somewhere in the distance, just barely audible to Fraynes, a church bell began to toll.


	2. Author Note

p class="MsoNormal"Hello! Not Sure why this story keeps disappearing from the list. If it continues to do s I will delete and repost./p 


End file.
